


Hello, My Old Heart

by Babey_blue



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie Lives, M/M, Mentions of Death, Nightmares, Post-Canon, eddie also has issues, eddie stays with richie, i think thats it, mentions of abuse, mentions of internalized homophobia, richie doesnt know how to open up, theyre oblivious, title doesnt go with the fic, use of eds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 22:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21260696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babey_blue/pseuds/Babey_blue
Summary: Eddie comes to live with Richie after the events IT and they realise that, while they're fucked up, they have each other.





	Hello, My Old Heart

Richie Tozier was many things. Insufferable. Annoying. Rude. 

But, underneath that, underneath all of the jokes and bravado, he was still the kid from Derry that was terrified of who he was and terrified of his friends finding out. 

Even 27 years later.

***

Richie still had nightmares about that day.

Nightmares about killing Bowers. 

About Stan's head attacking him.

About Eddie getting speared through his torso.

Realistically, he knew that Eddie wasn't dead. Miraculously, survived and then everything went back to normal.

Eddie went back to his wife 

And Richie went back to his apartment. Alone 

He wondered about Eddie a lot, which is normal, whenever you see the first person you…. After 27 years.

The person you hadn't remembered.

He lay in his bed after a sweat inducing the nightmare and thought about how easily he and Eds and slipped back into their old dynamic.

About how  _ easily _ he fell back in love with Eddie.

Love.

Richie felt a wave of nausea rise at the thought. 

Realistically, he knew it was okay to love Eddie.

But mentally…

Years of bullying and self-hatred built up inside of him every time he thought about what he felt for Eddie Kaspbrak. 

The thought of loving another man sent him on a downward spiral of internalized homophobia that made him want to disappear and never come back.

Richie knew that everything he felt was okay, but trying to convince himself of that was harder than facing a killer clown.

It was at this time, 12 a.m., that the phone rang.

***

Eddie Kaspbrak knew a little something about being insufferable. He was a kid from Derry that was a hypochondriac and who had suffered from years of abuse and manipulation, just to find someone exactly like that and marry her.

He could've found something different in Richie Tozier. 

For a short time, he did. 

He should've stayed. Should've stayed and told Rich how it was. 

But he didn't, and now here he was, abandoned by Myra in some hospital he didn't want to be in. 

It was 3am when he called Richie, but he didn't expect an answer. 

" _ Hello?" _

"Hey Rich, it's Eddie." 

" _ Oh, uh, hey Eds."  _

"Listen, hey uh, do you think I could stay with you for a few days?" 

" _ What about your wife? You know, the one ten times your own body mass?"  _

"She left me." 

" _ She  _ ** _what? _ ** _ You're still in the hospital! What does she expect you to do? Walk out of there and take care of yourself?"  _

"Richie, it's not that big-"

_ "If you say "it's not that big of a deal" I'm going to slap you."  _

"It's not. I was going to leave her." 

" _ Listen Eddie, obviously you can stay with me, but are you sure it's me you want to stay with?"  _

"Yeah man." 

" _ I guess I'll hop on a flight in like...3 hours and come get you. Where are you?"  _

"Uh, at a hospital in NY." 

_ "Got it. See ya Eds."  _

"Don't call me Eds-he hung up."

***

Richie arrived the next day, just as he said he would. 

The one thought, however, running through his brain was: ' _ how do I act around a recently divorced man who you might love?'  _

The nausea rose again, but he ignored it, in favour of helping Eddie into the car. 

"So, are you cleared for air travel? Because it's a 42 hour drive to LA from here, but I'll drive if we can't fly." He told Eddie, who was staring at him. 

"Uh, no, no. I'm clear to fly."

"Good. Good. Because this cars a rental so.." 

He saw that Eddie rolled his eyes and laughed. 

Things were almost ...normal. 

"You haven't been sleeping." Eddie stated. 

"Yes I have." 

"Don't bullshit me, Tozier, I can tell." 

Richie rolled his eyes. "It's just nightmares, Eds, I'll live." 

"You get them too." 

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. 

"I do." he said, in such an un-Richie way, he didn't even recognize his own voice.

"So do I." 

"They're bound to go away eventually." Is all he said on the matter. 

"Yeah. Eventually." 

***

Richie's house was messy. In a lived in kind of way. 

It also smelled like the cheap cologne he liked to wear(but you wouldn't hear him complain). 

It felt more like home than his house back in NY did. 

"Well, here it is, Eds," came Richie's voice, almost nervous, "my humble abode." 

"Don't call me Eds." 

"What about Spaghetti?" 

"Absolutely not." 

Richie grinned and ruffled his hair. "You wound me, Kaspbrak." 

"Good." 

He then cleared his throat. "I don't have a guest bedroom, but, I can sleep on the couch and you can have my room." 

"Richie-" 

"No, really. Eddie, you  _ just  _ got out of the hospital, you need it more than I do."

Something inside of him was warmed at the aspect of Richie giving up his own bed. 

Of giving up his own comfort for Eddie's. 

"If you  _ insist.  _ Jeez, Rich, you fuss more than my grandma did." 

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be sure to pinch your cheeks and feed you too much apple pie, get some rest, Eds." 

"I-yeah. Yeah." 

***

There was one more thing Richie had dreams about. 

The life he saw in the deadlights. 

It was everything he didn't even know he wanted.

A sweet, entertaining, happy, domestic, dream of a life with Eddie that he could only achieve with a dream. 

It was painstakingly perfect, they never fought. Never doubted anything for a second. 

It wasn't them, though. 

He wanted the life with Eddie where he was criticized, where he could make a shitty joke and get a groan instead of a laugh. 

Wanted a life where Eddie  _ refused  _ to kiss him until his teeth were brushed and he shaved a little. 

The life he saw in the deadlights was false. A decoy. 

A placebo, he would go as far to say. 

He didn't know he was crying until Eddie woke him up. 

***

Richie sat at the table, his eyes vacant and hands shaking while he held a freshly made cup of coffee. 

Eddie didn't know what to do. 

He'd never seen Richie go silent like this before. It made him feel helpless, like the person he loved was drowning and he didn't know how to swim. 

"Richie," he voiced, voice thick with the fear he felt, "Rich, talk to me." 

He blinked, and he saw the world re-enter his eyes. 

"I can't, uh, I can't see."

Sliding over his glasses, Eddie put a hand on his shoulder. 

Richie flinched away. 

"What happened?" 

"Just a dream, Eds." 

"Didn't sound like ' _ just a dream'  _ to me." 

"Yeah, well, it was. A stupidly sad, perfect dream." 

"Why were you crying?" 

Richie didn't say anything. 

Eddie gave up, he knew his best friend to be a stubborn man, and apparently that hadn't changed in 27 years. 

"It was a dream about what I saw in the deadlights. It was perfect, but it wasn't real. It was just what  _ IT  _ wanted me to see." 

"What was it?" 

"A perfect life, with the person I loved." 

"Isn't that what everyone wants?" 

Shrugging, Richie took a sip of the coffee. "Maybe. But what I saw wasn't what I wanted. Not the perfect way it was shown to me." 

He dropped the subject.

As Eddie went back to bed, he began to think about what he said. 

About the person he loved, about the perfect life. 

He didn't even know Richie was in love. 

***

Richie woke up to the sound of a vacuum and bolted up. 

"Eds, you shouldn't be cleaning." 

"Your apartment is  _ filthy _ , Rich. Someone has to clean it." 

"What about-" 

"I can handle myself!" Eddie snapped, a look of weariness passing over his face, "I won't break." 

"I know you won't." 

"I spent all that time with my mother just to marry someone just like her." 

"Don't beat yourself up for that." 

"I don't even think I loved her. Not even in a tolerable, platonic way. I just married her because she was safe." 

"Have you ever loved anyone? Romantically, I mean?" 

"There was a boy, when we were kids. Pretty sure I loved him." 

"I didn't know you were…" 

"I didn't either. Not until later."

Richie swallowed the wave of nausea he felt coming. "I am too." 

Eddie smiled. 

***

Richie liked men. 

Richie knew that Eddie liked men. 

But what he  _ didn't  _ know was that he loved him. 

He fell back in love with him so  _ easily _ . So fast. 

He just, he walked into the restaurant, annoying and loud as all hell, but still undeniably the boy he knew. 

Now, he just didn't know what to do. 

It wasn't good to live with the man you loved when he didn't know you loved him. 

It wasn't good to pretend that they were in love and lived together as a perfectly stereotypical L.A couple. 

But, Eddie wanted to dream. So desperately. 

"Hey, Eduardo, you still with me?" 

Eddie blinked. "Don't call me that." 

Richie rolled his eyes. "You don't like Eds, or Spaghetti, so what am I supposed to call you?" 

"My  _ name _ ?" 

"Alright, Edward." 

He smiled and shoved Richie very gently. "I meant Eddie." 

"I dunno, I think being called your full name really brings out the inner Twilight vampire." 

"Shut the fuck up, I bet you watched every one of those movies." 

"That's my own business, Eds." 

"You  _ did _ , I fucking knew you would!" 

Richie shoved  _ him  _ this time. "I watched it for the irony, you're the one saddled with the name." 

"What _ ever _ , I'm going to do the dishes." 

"I'll help." 

Eddie stared at him. "Yeah right, trashmouth." 

"My house, I get to at least  _ attempt  _ to clean." 

***

It was oddly...domestic, washing the dishes with Eddie. 

Wash, dry, wash, dry. With the occasional brushing of fingers that made his head spin and breath short. 

Or when Eddie splashed soap on him and laughed. 

Or when Richie slapped him with a tightly coiled rag. 

Or when he and Eddie gazed at each other just a little bit too long. 

It was nice. And everything that the deadlights couldn't show him. 

It was, by his definition, what perfect should be like. 

***

There was screaming coming from the living room. Richie. 

"Hey," he whispered, gently shaking him, "hey, Rich. Wake up."

He bolted up with a gasp, eyes searching until they landed on him. 

And then he was pulled into a hug. A desperate, sweaty, sigh of relief hug. 

"Are you alright?"

"No." 

He rubbed his back, knuckles brushing his spine. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"Maybe tomorrow." 

It was then that Eddie got an idea. 

"Move over." 

"Huh? Eddie, no." 

"Move over, dickwad, we're sharing the couch. That way, if you have another nightmare I'll be here." 

He heard the sigh of resignation and sat down next to Richie. 

"Night Eds." 

"Night Richie." 

***

He was embarrassed. 

There's little that can embarrass Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier, but being woken up by the man he loved in the middle of a nightmare about  _ him _ , was one of those things. 

He couldn't just, shut down, like he normally would, not without Eddie worrying about him. 

The image of Eddie, looming over him and getting stabbed was kept haunting his mind. 

And in the dream, it didn't end well. It never did in his dreams. 

"Are you gonna tell me about your nightmare?" Eddie asked, pinning him down with a stare that only his Eddie could. 

"I dunno Eds, you gonna let me fuck your mom?"

"You're deflecting." 

Richie sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "No, I'm not going to tell you about my nightmares, Eddie, you're not my therapist." 

"I'm your friend, Rich, one who went through the same shit you did, I can  _ help."  _

"Eddie, I don't want to talk about it."

"You need to." 

"It was about you," he snapped, "You  _ died  _ and all I could do was watch as you said my name and collapse to the ground. So, no, I don't want to talk about it, Eddie." 

"I dream about dying." The other man whispered, so quiet that, if Richie had moved, he would've missed it. 

"Almost every night. I get stabbed by  _ IT  _ and then I die, but usually, before that happens, I hear you." 

It was with a shaking breath, that Richie told him the truth about the deadlights. 

"The person I dreamt of living with in the deadlights, it was you. But it wasn't the  _ you  _ I'm in love with. The you that would rather bite back than give in. You were a-" 

"Placebo." 

He pushed up his glasses nervously. "Yeah." 

It only took half a second, but suddenly Eddie dragged him down to his height and kissed him. 

And, in a world full of wrong, kissing Eddie was the only thing in his life that made sense. That was  _ right.  _


End file.
